The Doctor And The Thirteen Assassins
by Shadow Wolf X51
Summary: The Doctor was never meant to see Amelia Pond again, but when an assassin comes after him at the beginning of his search for Clara he is forced to meet her again. Well by meet we mean rescue. Who are the thirteen asssassins, and why are they hunting the Doctor? And where is Clara?


**A fic done for a friend, and the plot bunny grew in my head, feasting on the other plot bunnies constantly being born in a Snake like manner, getting longer and bigger until it grew into this. This is based after the Christmas 2012 special, pretty much at the beginning of The Doctor's search for Clara.**

**Doctor and Amy friendship**

**Amy and Rory married**

_26__th__ February, 2013. New York, USA. 6:09pm_

"Aah. Amelia Pond, the times we shared."

High above the outskirts of New York was a small blue box, drifting through the clouds in a manner that almost seemed lazy. The mood inside this box was very much as blue as it was on the exterior. The blue box was little on the outside, but huge on the in. As huge as it may be, it only ever felt empty these days as empty as the twin hearts of its sole inhabitant, The Doctor. Although a little bit of his usual enthusiasm had returned knowing that he could find Clara, or some form of a second Clara, it was still disheartening to know that she died so shortly after meeting him just like so many others.

He had been a broken man, and she had fixed him up faster than anyone before. Her cheeky attitude had seemed so familiar, the banter of people that were very close, and he loved it. After she stole that kiss, the deal was sealed; he would keep her alive no matter what.

He might have even felt something for her; it was hard not to feel something for someone who fixed your broken self. Then she died all because he forgot to close the damn doors.

He had failed. Always him, time and time again; the universe made him watch friends and amazing people die before his eyes. She fixed the metaphorical hole Amy left, only to get yanked away with her hands still in his hearts, and he wasn't sure he could take it. Having not slept in days, he was sure that it was only the fact that she was still out there keeping him standing. He would find her, but first he had to move on from Amy, say his last goodbye. He knew he couldn't physically see the Ponds, but at least he could bid them farewell from within.

That was the cause for his current location. Stood in the open doors of the TARDIS, he looked down on New York with tears in his eyes. The wind, lonely up so high, whistled and tenderly stroked his clothes. They were two lone forces of nature, the only ones that survived until the end. They were two of the things in the universe that were untouched by time and eroded all in their path. Both could be referred to as Oncoming Storms.

The Doctor muttered to himself an old Time-Lord saying.

"A Time-Lord can live nearly forever if they are careful." He then responded, both to himself and the saying.

"Maybe I don't want to be careful. Maybe I'm just too tired." The Doctor would never end himself; he was too bright to do that. He was however growing quite dark lately. It happened with some regenerations, specifically the eighth. Negative situation after situation slowly ate at him, turning him into a more merciless Doctor just like back in the Time War.

He had to try and let go.

"Goodbye Rory Williams. Goodbye Amelia…" The sentence died on his lips as he felt a strange yet familiar tingling. He could taste the current of power – not quite electricity, and quite coppery – on his tongue. He could feel energy touching on his limbs, and in the back of his mind he realised what it was. A sort of Time-Lord sense that let them know whenever there was some sort of time or space manipulation nearby. Suddenly there was a burst of crackling energy and light far in front of him, and then there was a hooded figure in a dark blue cloak/trench coat flying towards him holding a large object.

He let out an "Oof!" as the outstretched item slammed into him, followed by the figure itself. The two rolled across the silver TARDIS interior in a flail of limbs and grunts. The figure seemingly gone, the Doctor gave himself a once over, and was alarmed at the item now stuck to his chest. It looked like three thick metal chords wrapped around his torso and over one shoulder and the same the other way. It made an 'X' over his chest, joined at the centre by a pale blue crystal. He leapt to his feet as he saw the cloaked person walk around the TARDIS console and hitting buttons as they went. Before the Doctor could move he saw the figure glance at him casually before hitting a button on its wrist. The familiar time/space tingle washed over the Doctor again, before he felt like the weight of a truck had slammed into him and a flash burned at his retinas.

_13__th__ July, 1940. New York, USA. 11:08pm_

The next thing he knew the wind was grasping at his clothes as he fell through the sky. This sensation lasted for a grand five seconds before the raggedy man thudded harshly into a metal surface, almost definitely denting it. He heard a familiar voice and lifted his head with a grunt. He saw a blurred but familiar flow of red hair before the effort became too much and his head slammed back down, all going dark.


End file.
